Chapter Forty-Seven: The Edge of the Blade

Chen Tianyu stopped despondently at the entrance to the ancestral hall, unable to take a single step further. The door of the hall was only half-closed, and when he pushed it open with force, the scene that met his eyes would be seared into his memory for a lifetime.

There were no lamps inside the ancestral hall. Instead, bundles of pine resin torches were lit in several corners. The resin crackled sharply in an iron cauldron, oozing thick, viscous oil. The flames leapt more than half a meter high, illuminating the entire hall in a glaring light.

At the far end stood the altar table, where ancestral tablets were arrayed. In front of each tablet was a small incense burner with sticks of incense freshly lit; the white ashes had not yet fallen, indicating they had only just begun to burn.

A row of candles stood in a line, their flames flickering in the draft from the opened door. On the altar closest to Chen Tianyu rested a large incense burner, packed with dozens of incense sticks, their smoke thick and pungent. Before the incense burner lay the coldly gleaming Fish Intestines Sword, and in front of the altar stood a man, as if bowing to insert incense or perhaps to tidy the surface.

Most unnerving of all, the scene was frozen in time. For several minutes after opening the door, nothing in the tableau changed.

With a flicker of hope, Chen Tianyu called out, but no one answered. Li Qisi did not turn around. He knew something was terribly wrong, but dared not advance rashly. The ancestral hall was full of traps; if he triggered one by mistake, he couldn’t be sure he’d escape unharmed. Yet he could no longer care for his own safety. Testing each step, he edged forward, each footfall as heavy as lead.

When only two or three meters from Li Qisi, his instincts proved true.

Several barely visible short arrows were lodged at an angle on the altar table—some by the incense burner, some near the sacred sword, and several more, evidently, in Li Qisi’s body. Li Qisi’s face was deathly pale, his eyes wide open, his right hand stretched out to grip the altar, his body pinned to the wooden table by a long arrow shaft.

The scene was grotesque and eerie—Li Qisi had been dead for some time.

Chen Tianyu held his breath and forced himself to remain calm as he approached Li Qisi, confirming his condition. Something occurred to him, and he slowly lifted Li Qisi’s right hand.

In the faint light, he saw, as expected, a blood-smeared character scrawled on the altar: a dot, a horizontal line, and half of a vertical stroke.

The character was unfinished; Li Qisi had been murdered before he could finish writing. The dying message could only be the killer’s name, but Chen Tianyu could not deduce exactly which character it was. The most likely possibility was “Qi.”

Both possible characters began with a dot and a horizontal line.

But he also knew Li Fuqi was still under house arrest at the village office—how could he have escaped to commit murder here?

Chen Tianyu examined the expression frozen on Li Qisi’s face: astonishment, confusion, perplexity, but not pain. What could that mean?

He stood motionless before the altar, utterly baffled.

———

“It’s too late for everything now,” Li Yiting murmured, face ashen. “We were all wrong. All of us.”

Chen Tianyu spoke gravely. “Yiting, we have to stay calm now.”

“I am calm,” Li Yiting replied despondently. “The killer used our assumptions against us, framed Li Fuqi to draw our attention, and then took the opportunity to kill Uncle. He’s succeeded.”

Chen Tianyu frowned. “How can you be so sure?”

“Uncle wrote the character ‘Fu’ on the table before dying. That means the killer must be one of the ‘Fu’ generation…” Li Yiting was still lucid, though numb.

“It could also be the character ‘Qi,’” Chen Tianyu reminded him.

Li Yiting shook his head. “Qiu Xi and Yongkun are watching Fuqi. There’s no way he could’ve escaped. The village office is miles from here. For Fuqi to break free from Qiu Xi and Yongkun, slip away, and murder both Uncle Six and Uncle—it's just too far-fetched.”

“True,” Chen Tianyu agreed. “What do you plan to do?”

“Judging by the fresh blood, the killer must have just left. But he’s so cunning, he’s probably hiding nearby. Even if we chased after him now, we wouldn’t find him,” Li Yiting reasoned.

Chen Tianyu suddenly recalled something dreadful but hesitated to speak.

“Fourth Brother, what have you thought of?” Li Yiting, faced with such tragedy, had grown even more sensitive.

Chen Tianyu sighed. “To be honest, I once suspected your uncle before he died.”

“I know.” Li Yiting replied bleakly. “You told me everyone in Li Village should be suspected. I sensed you were referring to someone in particular. You were right. When I returned to Li Village, I was too cautious, too hesitant. Uncle was highly respected—his word was law. It wasn’t that I didn’t suspect him—I simply didn’t dare.”

“But now you see, even Uncle himself couldn’t escape his fate. It means our judgments were deeply flawed,” said Li Yiting.

Chen Tianyu silently swept his eyes over the altar again, gaze settling on the short arrows.

“Let’s talk outside,” he suddenly suggested, a cold chill creeping up his spine.

Li Yiting was surprised. “Aren’t we going to examine the scene?”

“I’m worried not all the traps have been triggered. Look…” He pointed to where Li Qisi’s body slumped. “The hidden weapons seem to have targeted only your uncle, and there aren’t many. How many such security measures are there in the hall, do you know?”

Li Yiting shuddered involuntarily. He’d studied the trap diagrams and knew how many weapons were hidden.

“Could the killer intend to kill everyone who enters the ancestral hall?” Li Yiting exclaimed. “We must retreat the way we came. I only have half of the trap map and don’t know all the layouts.”

“You only have half the map? So that’s it,” Chen Tianyu mused.

Cautiously, the two backed toward the entrance. Fortunately, nothing happened.

Li Yiting exhaled in relief. To him, the ancestral hall was now as perilous as a dragon’s lair. A doubt flickered through his mind—why had Uncle only given him half the diagram? Did Li Fuqi also have only half? Was it because Uncle didn’t trust them both?

Chen Tianyu handed him a cigarette, and the two fell silent.

Chen Tianyu was clearly dejected. “Now all five forms of divine retribution have been confirmed: burned by fire, pierced by wood, drowned by water, buried by earth, and slain by blade. We made several misjudgments. When your third uncle Li Qiwen died, everyone said it was heavenly fire, but in fact, it foretold burial by earth. Your sixth uncle was the true victim of fire. Either the killer made a mistake or intended to rigidly enact the heavenly punishments. I once discussed this with your uncle—he believed the five punishments were merely a farce, concocted to scare the villagers and curb their greed. But that creates a logical paradox…”

“Fourth Brother, what do you mean?” Li Yiting asked in confusion.

“Someone is methodically carrying out a curse that never existed. What do you think that person’s goal is?” Chen Tianyu seemed to be talking to himself.

“…”

“The killer has succeeded, completing the plan right under our noses. There was no need to go to all this trouble to kill these men. But the killer did it anyway, making fools of us—so-called criminal investigators. Clearly, the killer had no regard for the police or detectives.”

Li Yiting nodded helplessly. “That’s true. It was meticulously planned, with every contingency considered. Our involvement changed nothing.”

“No, the mute’s suicide might have been the one variable,” Chen Tianyu said heavily. “The mute died inexplicably, with no warning. It was more like a sacrifice—yes, that’s it. We may have overlooked how important the secrets he held were.”

“If the mute is the key, then we can still investigate,” Li Yiting said bitterly.

“It’s too late. We missed the best opportunity,” Chen Tianyu replied firmly. “But it doesn’t matter now. I suspect they were all enacting a ritual, and that is enough.”

“A ritual of revenge!”

Chen Tianyu continued, “Only revenge would demand such blood and solemnity.” He turned his head. “Actually, there’s another possibility—more unbelievable still.”

Li Yiting felt a chill run down his spine. “What is it…”

“Perhaps your uncle wanted this secret to be lost forever, so he killed everyone who knew, including himself, leaving only you and Li Fuqi.”

Li Yiting’s face turned ashen. “How could that be?!”

“Anything is possible now. We can no longer judge the killer’s intentions by common sense,” Chen Tianyu said darkly. “It’s just a possibility. Can you rule it out?”